TSC03 From the Ashes
by Jonn Wolfe
Summary: TSC Universe: Carpe Tempus Sequel: John is forcibly taken before President Romana for evaluation. His status in question, Rose does the only thing she can think of: Go after him.
1. Kidnapped!

**FROM THE ASHES**_  
__Chapter One_

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**A/N:**_ This story is written in collaboration with Restless Goddess, who plays Rose on TSC. Much thanks to Adam and Claire, who play Romana and Narvin, respectively. The thread itself is "The Things We Miss While We Sleep" in case you want to go peek. Link to the site is in my bio._

_Also, Two and a Half Doctors, while written within the TSC Universe, isn't a part of their canon, and I was disappointingly wrong about River. __*shakes fist at Moffat* So, things will be a bit different here from what was the 'history' of John and Rose in that story. Sorry if it's confusing._

_Oh, CIA is the acronym for the Celestial Intervention Agency of Gallifrey, not the American Central Intelligence Agency._

_Allons-y!_

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_Restless Goddess: When Jonn says "collaborating," he really means that he rewrites our combined TSC genius and I fix the punctuation. (so far, anyway...muahahahaha...) ;)_

* * *

_**Previously**…_

A few hours after their falling asleep from the rather blissful, yet _exhaustive_ bonding, John woke up completely confused. _This isn't the arboretum. What the… Oh please tell me that wasn't all a dream,_ he lamented. _'M'here,'_ he heard Rose think and felt her hugging him. Lifting his head up, he saw her blond locks in complete disarray all over his chest. Grinning, he ran his fingers through her hair and looked around.

Realizing they were in his… no, _their_ room by the look of her stuff interspersed around the place, he smiled wide. Thanking their ship for making them more comfortable, he eased Rose to the side. Kissing her cheek, he had an idea. "Going to go get some breaky, be back in a few." The sudden assault of the flavours of chips and chocolate made him chuckle. "Right. How bout a chocolate shake and some chips?" Seeing her slight nod, he grinned and got out of bed, then tucked her in.

A quick shower and a change of clothes later, he was in the console room. Moving the ship back to the pub location, he stepped out and immediately complained about the brightness of the sunlight. Hearing Rose giggle in the back of his mind, he grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Hush." Flicking his sonic over his glasses to shade them, he put them on and went to go get 'breakfast'. Didn't matter that it was nearly noon.

On his way back, he was sucking on a banana shake and carrying the bag in his right arm, with Rose's shake in his right hand. John was so deliriously happy, that he completely missed being followed. It wasn't obvious until one of his pursuers stepped in front of him.

"Oh, hello! Fine day for a walk, isn't it. A bit brisk, but…" His brain caught up with him then, and he felt the telepathic footprints of these two individuals, male and female. "Time Lords? Really? Oh, just look at you!" His smile threatened to fly off his face. "Oh, this is brilliant! Pleased to meet you, and why-are-you-pointing-a-staser-at-me?" he frowned, finally noticing the gun.

* * *

_**Three Hours Ago**…_

Sitting in a rather posh office aboard the Gallifreyan station, Romana sighed. The rather recent bother with the Doctor and the Master had her at wits' end. Repairs were going well, though; she just despised owing their lives to a madman. It was the Master's idea for the sleeper ship after all. Still though, it was nice to see the Doctor again, even if it was disastrous. When wasn't it when he was around?

Her third incarnation was a waif of a woman with short cropped dark hair, and blue eyes. She'd spent the entirety of the Time War with this body, and had the horrid scars to prove it. One of them on her arm consistently ached, and she fretted with it while deciding the best way to find out what happened to the universe while they were sleeping.

While it would've been easier to get the CIA to report on things, this was something she had to see for herself. The House of Dvora was well trained in viewing individual timelines, and she had become a master of it at the tender age of ninety eight.

Taking several cleansing breaths, she placed her hands in her lap and leaned her head back. Focusing, she whispered the name of the timeline she wished to view. "Doctor." Flinching at the sudden wave of images, she flipped them backwards like the pages of a book to the point of Gallifrey's destruction.

Slipping through the images, she gasped a total of three times. The first was when his companion looked into the heart of his TARDIS, which caused the destruction of the Dalek Emperor. That was something that she hadn't even considered before, his existence after the Time War. She shuddered at the thought of other things surviving the temporal backlash of the destruction of the Eye of Harmony. The D-mat gun was beyond thorough.

The second gasp came when the Doctor faced the Cult of Skaro, and lost his companion in the process. "Oh Theta," she whispered in sympathy. Seeing him use a supernova to send the girl a farewell message had her wiping her face.

The third one was when the Cult of Skaro turned up in the past. Frowning, she was disgusted at the thought of them evolving. All the same, she thought it admirable that the Doctor was willing to try to help them end their hatred. "So like him," she said with a grin.

Her eyes shot open after seeing the result of the escaped survivor of the Cult. While she had wondered what happened to Davros during the war, that wasn't what had her in an emotional uproar. The sight of the Doctor aborting his regeneration for the love of the human girl was touching, but the result of it had her standing up like a shot, shrieking. "No!"

"A metacrisis?" she said under her breath. "By all the _stars_, Doctor, what were you _thinking_!" Completely appalled, she ordered a retrieval unit to Earth.

* * *

"You need to come with us, Doctor," the lady in front of him said.

Blinking, John scrunched his eyebrows together. "Ah, yes. About that. Y'see, Marona," well, she _felt_ like Marona at any rate. She must've regenerated a while back. "I'm not…"

"We know, Doctor," the male, Dorsal, interrupted from behind him. "That's why you're coming with us."

Turning around, John looked rather shocked. "On _whose_ authority?" he asked in a high pitch. "You're CIA, aren't you? Who ordered this?"

"President Romanadvoratrelundar," Marona said from behind him. "Now will you come peacefully?"

Turning back around, John stared at her staser. "I hate guns. You _know_ this, and they're completely unnecessary, I assure you. I was planning to head over to see you lot rather soon, as a matter of fact. Just found out about the sleeper ship last night, relatively speaking. Can I at least set this stuff down before you carry me off?"

Receiving a nod from Marona, John stepped to the side and started placating the now very appallingly worried TARDIS. _'Dear, I have to go now. Follow after Rose wakes, if you can. Try not to fret too much. While this is Romana's doing, the guns _are_ a bit much.'_

Placing Rose's shake and the large bag down somewhat close to the door of his TARDIS, he fetched his wrapper of bangers out of it and stood back up. He'd considered legging it for the door, but they quite literally had the drop on him. "Is it okay if I eat on the way? Sorry, but this is my breakfast." Mostly, he kept his gob running to keep their attention on him, instead of possibly noticing the ship. That would've been all sorts of problematic.

"Oh move along, Doctor," Dorsal said, waving him on with the staser.

Walking in between them, he had to correct them. Only Rose could call him that, even if it _was_ rather rare. "It's John, by the way. Johnathon Donald Smith, if you want specifics. Or, if you prefer, Mutau Sigma."

"Noted, Mr. Smith," Marona said.

John smiled. A small success, but it was something at least. "Thank you."

Turning a corner, they stopped in front of a TARDIS that was impersonating a rather large rubbish bin. Marona slid the side of it open and stepped inside. Dorsal wagged his staser again. "Move," he said rather gruffly.

Frowning, John looked it over. "Did it have to be a rubbish bin? That's rather horrific. A refrigerator or even a cardboard box would be preferable to that thing." Shrugging at him, he walked inside.

As soon as he was in their console room, Marona had him hold his hands out to have manacles placed on him. "Completely unnecessary, but I understand the caution," John said with a sigh.

They led him to a cell, and he sat down with a sigh. _'Dear boy, while I am a prisoner, could you do me a favour and make the bench a bit more comfortable please? Could do with a table as well, so I can eat properly.'_

A deep rumble of acquiescence from the ship caught the retrieval pair completely off guard. They watched as the bench morphed into a better padded one, then a table appeared before him. "Thank you," John said with a grin and set his food on it.

"How did you do that?" Dorsal demanded, completely shocked at such a thing.

Looking through the force field, John shrugged. "I asked nicely? I'm not going anywhere, and I thought it would be smashing if the ride could be at least a _little_ pleasant."

Pulling out a small personal computer, Marona tapped in some notes with a frown on her face. "The President will want to know about this. Let's go, Dorsal."

Left alone, John thought about that with some trepidation and sighed deeply. "Rassilon's Knickers, I really _am_ in trouble," he lamented. Feeling down his bond to Rose, he could tell she was still asleep and sighed again. A sudden tear went down his face, and he wiped at it angrily. "Bollocks! What the bloody hell did I ever do to you Fred?"

* * *

The trip was somewhat short, but he'd had enough time to finish eating. John could tell that they were close, because a host of mental impressions started to become known to him. Standing up, he thought to the ship again. '_Sorry, old boy, I hope I didn't get you in trouble or anything. All the same, you might want to return the cell to its original configuration. Oh, and would you mind the rubbish please?'_ The cell changed, and the remnants of his breakfast faded with the table. _'Thank you so much.'_

Having just enough time to take care of himself with the built in loo, John was bouncing on his toes in anticipation of seeing the ship, or station, or whatever it was. The feel of so many minds had him grinning his face off. He thought he could count at least thirty other TARDIS in the area as well. Marona was the one to retrieve him, and her look at him had him shrugging. "Don't mind me, dear, I'm just thrilled to be here," he said with a cheeky grin.

The walk through what he found to be an actual station had him awash in nostalgia. John couldn't stop smiling at seeing so many fellow survivors. Still though, there was a near omnipresent sense of apathy and despair. He could understand that all too well, and his face eventually began mirroring theirs.

When they got to their destination, John was ushered into some sort of office. Looking around, he saw the President immediately and frowned. Marona surprised him when she removed his manacles though. He stiffened when he felt a rather cool and calculating presence come up behind him to relieve the pair. _You have got to be kidding me. Narvin? Fuck me blind, but this just got worse,_ he thought bitterly.

Turning his attention to the President, he simply nodded his head. "Romana." A slight sniff behind him for foregoing protocol had him rolling his eyes.

Standing, Romana looked slightly shocked. "You know me?"

A frown went over his face. "I should bloody well hope so, Fred. Could you tell me please, why you thought it so imperative to remove me from my wife the day after our bonding?" Okay, he was angry and couldn't help but spit those words out. Still though, it had the proper effect: she looked appalled. Turning his head to look over his shoulder, he greeted the other person in the room. "Hello Narvin. How's that rulebook of yours? Keeping your fanny warm, is it?" _Well, hello Donna. Pipe down would you?_

Looking back to Romana, he found that she had moved to be in front of him. "If you remember me, I'll ask you how much you know and request your intentions with that knowledge," she said in an almost threatening tone, her gaze at him rather penetrating.

Mirroring her look, John frowned again. "Everything he does, up to and including what you look like in a bathing suit." _Okay, that might've been a bit much,_ he thought. Narvin's gasp was a good indication of that, not to mention the raised eyebrow in front of him. "As to what I want? My wife's happiness. My family's good will. Time Lord and Terran safety. Simple peace. Nothing else is particularly worth worrying about, unless it smacks me in the face like this."

Seeing the hint of a smile on Romana's face at his words, he couldn't help but grin. "Good God, I missed you!" he said a bit loudly, and surprised her with a hug. He was so beside himself that he didn't notice her stiffen in his embrace.

"Please do us the favour of unhanding the Presidential Body, Doctor," Narvin growled. "I would hate to have her injured when I kill you. The paperwork involved in such a matter is rather lengthy."

Looking over his shoulder again, John was ticked off. "Oh stuff it Wrong Way. This woman is the closet thing I've got to a sister. I couldn't hurt her any more than I could hurt my wife."

Glowering at him, Narvin grumbled. "You already did, imbecile."

Forcibly shoved back, John looked at Romana with surprise. "What?"

"Don't you _ever_ touch me without permission!" Romana shouted angrily. "Understand?"

John nodded dumbly and was appalled at the amount of fear that seemed to be radiating from her. "So sorry. It's just rather good to see you is all," he said quietly.

Face softening a bit, she looked to Narvin. "Please put that away Coordinator. You are dismissed."

"Madam President!" Narvin protested loudly. "He's not a person! You can not trust him!"

Turning around with wide eyes, John stared at him in shock. "What did you say? Not a person? I daresay that I'm more of a person than you are, with that attitude of yours. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Out!" Romana ordered, pointing to the door aggressively.

Flinging his arms up, Narvin washed his hands of it. "Fine! If the mongrel bites you, I wont be held responsible!" Leaving the room in a huff, he shouted at one of the guards. However, whatever he intended to say was lost as the door hissed shut.

There was a moment of quiet as they regarded each other, then Romana went to her desk and leaned on it with a heavy sigh. "It would seem that time changes everything, doesn't it Doctor?"

John snickered. "Seems that way, doesn't it? Is it safe to ask what happened yet? Forgive me, but your reaction scared the hell out of me."

Closing her eyes, Romana had to know before she showed him. "What was the last thing you said to me?" she asked quietly.

Blinking at that, reviewing the last conversation the Doctor had with her made him cringe. "He was wrong, you know," he whispered.

"I need to hear it," she whispered back.

Sighing, John adjusted his throat to the voice that actually said the words, then repeated them in a much softer tone than the anger they were actually spoken in. "I've spent the better part of four centuries trying to convince the council to do something about the Daleks. I failed so completely when I was ordered to Skaro that everyone has suffered for it. With the resurrection of Rassilon, we cannot possibly lose this war. I have to go."

Tears spilled over her cheeks at hearing that gentle voice again, and she lowered her head. "You do remember," she whispered.

Returning his voice to normal, John apologized. "I'm so, so sorry it went so wrong. There was no way to tell how unbalanced Rassilon truly was until it was too late."

Shifting slightly, Romana undid the top clasp of her robes and bared her back to him. "This is the Artwork of Rassilon," she said with more than a little irony. The scars and divots on all along her back were ugly. Moving her arms, she slipped them out of their sleeves and held the robes over her chest. That revealed more of what was done to her, and she turned around to see his reaction.

Face awash in horror, John was completely appalled. "By the Guardians of the Universe," he said under his breath. His hand involuntarily reached out to verify what his eyes told him, but he pulled it back when he remembered. "Oh, Fred. I… he…" he stuttered over the pronouns. "_We_ didn't know," he finally said, hanging his head to stare at his feet.

"No one did," she said quietly, moving to cover up properly. "He would do that whenever he needed another resolution passed. Or, when he felt like it. Needless to say, he felt like it quite a bit."

Only after she was clothed again did John raise his head, and he wiped his face. "Have you told him?" he asked, referring to the Doctor.

She just shook her head. "He didn't stay long enough."

Suddenly, a fierce sense of love and fear - _not to mention a tonne of anger_ - wrapped up in a rather large ball hit the centre of his mind. "Ah. The wife is awake," he commented. Noticing Romana's look of confusion, he added. "Do mind the blond tornado when she arrives. I don't think she likes the idea of my being kidnapped the day after we were joined." Grinning, he tacked on, "I'll do my best to save the hand print on your cheek when she gets here."

"How will she…" Romana started to ask, before she looked to her right when a more than familiar sound started to fill the room. "You have a TARDIS!" she said in outright shock.

* * *

_**A/N2:** John's answer to his intentions was an edited bit out of Kallisti, by Jessa L'Rynn. I highly recommend reading that wonderful story._


	2. Hell Hath No Fury

**FROM THE ASHES**_  
__Chapter Two_

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**_A/N:_**___ She'll baulk, but RG had more to do with most of this chapter, seeing as how she wrote Rose for the original RP. Still though, she's absolutely FANTASTIC in catching my grammar. Thanks dear!_

_Allons-y!_

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_Restless Goddess: Ok, so maybe I had a LITTLE bit more of a hand in this one. The credit still goes to Jonn, though, for taking my words and adding hilarity and a dash more ass-kickery, not that there wasn't plenty already. ;)_

* * *

Stretching and sighing happily under the duvet and sheets, Rose yawned, relishing the aches of the previous evening. Every one of them reminded her of what happened, and she replayed the moment they'd finally come together - _pun completely intended, thanks._ Reality was bent on its ear, but she kicked her legs rapidly, giggling like mad. _John and I have bonded. We're married._ "I'm his wife!" she shouted aloud in outright joy.

Reliving the moment they locked their minds together, she couldn't think of anything more intimate. Just feeling his presence within her mind was so soothing, not to mention empowering. She felt like she could take on the entire world, if not the universe. Not once had she woken up and felt so complete, cherished, and blissfully _alive_!

Her arm went to the other side of the bed, and she frowned when she found it empty. _Typical. Prob'ly waist deep in the console again,_ she thought. Then she remembered a somewhat fuzzy memory of him saying something about breakfast. Sitting up with a completely bleary and goofy grin on her face, hair sticking out every which way, she hoped he'd gotten that shake and chips she was craving.

Stretching up with a happy sigh, she ran her hands through her hair and put her legs over the edge of the bed. Before she had the chance to stand up though, the entire room tilted and she ended up on her bum in a heap on the floor. Glaring at the ceiling, she shouted angrily over having her mood ruined. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

The dear was somehow a _lot_ louder than what she remembered, and the flurry of images was so vivid and rapid that it made her dizzy. "Whoa! Slow down! Not so loud! What's with the tantrum?" she shrieked. The images slowed, and her eyes became round with a gasp. Seeing John put breakfast close to the TARDIS, she watched as two oddly dressed and unfriendly looking people escorted him away.

_Oddly dressed? Looked like Gallifreyan uniforms, they did. Crimson and white… _Blanching at that thought, she remembered seeing something similar from his memories last night. Then she realized: _'Captured?'_ she thought with horror.

It was less than twelve hours after the best goddamned night of her life, and her husband was _kidnapped_? Her stunned expression changed to a scowl as her shock was replaced by ungodly amounts of rage.

Oh. _HELL_. No.

"No bleedin' way!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. "Not now, not _ever_!"

Closing her eyes, she felt for him in her mind and was somewhat comforted that she could still sense him. Still though, there was a bit of apprehension coming through the bond, and he sounded _so_ far away. Standing up, she stomped bare-arsed naked to the bedroom door before she realized her state. Swearing louder, she snatched her dressing gown and hopped into her bunny slippers - _pun very much intended this time too_ - and bolted down the corridor while tying her scarlet gown around her.

Reaching the outer door of the ship, she looked outside with worry etched all over her face. Glancing down, she saw the breakfast he'd gone after and fought the urge to cry. _'I love you, John,'_ she sent out to him, and she felt a pulse of love come back through her mind. Heartened from that, she took the bag and cup then looked at the sky. _'I'm coming for you,'_ she said, thinking it odd that their roles were reversed now. "And there's going to be hell to pay," she growled aloud, going back inside the ship.

The cacophony of noise from the TARDIS made her even more edgy. Setting the food on one of the jump couches, she stuffed some chips in her mouth and took a long draw from the shake. Turning, she leaned on the console with her head down. "Oh God, what do I do?" Their ship was panicking as much as or more than she was, and the display bleeped to get her attention.

Pulling the monitor around to the keyboard, she stared at it and swore… _vividly_… over her mouthful. She couldn't speak Gallifreyan to save her life, and the screen happened to be full of the bubbly and circled words. "No," she choked out. Holding her hand over her mouth, she screamed in frustration.

The room rumbled, and the artful language disappeared. The screen flickered through a multitude of different verbiage. The only ones she recognized were French and Italian, but she could swear she saw Egyptian hieroglyphs briefly. The dear was trying so hard to get her to understand. Eventually, she gave up and the lights died.

She could only see now from the slight blue-green tint of the time rotor. Blinking rapidly, she tried to wipe the tears out of her face. Whimpering in the dark, Rose felt a small hand grasp hers. "Mum?" she heard.

Whipping her head down to look at the TARDIS avatar, she knelt and hugged her tightly. "What do I do? I don't know what I'm doing!" she wailed.

"Shhh," the young dear said, rubbing and patting her back. "I'm the only one allowed to panic right now. I can't fly myself, you have to pilot!" she cried.

Both of them shook and trembled, holding on to each other for a while. Then somehow, things seemed to click together. They pulled back and looked at each other, then Rose squared herself. "What do I have to do?"

"_We_ have to do it," she corrected her. "Pull him to us through our bonds with him. That way, we can figure out where he is and get the coordinates. When we get that, I can show you what to push, pull, or spin by lighting them up. Okay?" Rose nodded hesitantly at that, and the young dear smiled through her worry. "I can't keep projecting, it's pulling at the power stores."

"It's okay," Rose said, hugging her again. "You go on. Just help me." Pulling back, the dear had a look of determination on her face, and nodded as she faded. The lights came up, and Rose stood to lean on the console again.

Closing her eyes, she could feel the TARDIS working with her. Focusing on John, she did what the dear said and tried pulling him close. Coordinating their efforts, his mind seemed to zoom in on them. A happy series of warbles and chitters filled the room, and she opened her eyes. Looking at the screen, she read the numbers aloud. "Ten Zero Eleven Zero Zero, by Zero Two." A vivid image of an orange planet filled her mind. "Gallifrey?" she asked, confused. The image morphed into what looked like a bunch of asteroids. While it saddened her, she realized that meant John was on the ship they saw the day before. "Ohhhh, _yes_!" she shouted, punching the air.

She paused as she realized she was completely under-equipped, and a quick search of her dressing gown pockets didn't amount to much except an inspection label. Sighing, she thought aloud. "A gun. Need a really _big_ gun." Right now, she didn't give a time-flying _fuck_ about violence being the last resort - her _husband_ was in danger!

Rose was startled by a rather loud metallic clang behind her. Turning 'round, she saw a sonic pulse rifle on the deck plating. Blinking in confusion, she recognized it from its resemblance to John's sonic pistol. Picking it up, she tested the heft and spun it about. _Sturdy._ Grinning, she had to ask. "Bloody _hell_, girl! Where in the world were you _hiding_ this thing?"

An image of one of the storage rooms with a cascade of books filled her mind. "What? Why'd you hide it with the library books? He's always in there looking for something!" The image spun ninety degrees, then went to one of the corners where her dirty secret was. "Oh… OH! _Those_ books." She blinked in embarrassment over her stash of romance novels, flushing. "Right. Um, let's keep that our little secret, er, shall we?"

Glancing around again, she pursed her lips, then slung the rifle over her shoulder. "Okay girl, let's go get our man!" Imitating John, she kicked the brake off with her bunny slippered feet, and went about the controls in an Electric Light Orchestra version of the Whac-a-Mole game. As soon as something lit up, she smacked, pulled, or twisted it. Smirking to herself, she thought this was the _Real_ Time Warp dance, Frankenfurter be damned.

Since the pair of them were so crazed with panic, the ship literally shot off the side of the building and skyrocketed out into space with such force that there was a micro boom that signalled the breaking of the Sound Barrier. Inside, Rose grabbed the console just in time, but whined when she saw her breakfast fly off the jump couch, forced to mourn the chocolate. Fortunately, the chips were still in the bag. Looking over, she saw that the bag had burst, chips scattered to hell and gone. "Oh well," she sighed.

Surprisingly, she heard the TARDIS' voice shrieking in her mind. _'I'll get you more! Now Concentrate!'_ Blanching at that, she nodded and went around the controls.

* * *

Staring in shock, Romana couldn't believe what she was seeing. "How did you get a TARDIS?" she shouted angrily.

"Grew her ourselves," John said, "Now calm down!" The look of shock on Romana's face was even more pronounced now, when she snapped her head around to look at him.

Watching, the usual brake noise was absent as a squealing, crackling thunk heralded the arrival of a four poster bed. _'PA'NA!'_ John heard their ship shriek in his mind, and he couldn't help but grin. He never really thought about it like that before, but he _was_ the first sentient being she recognised when she became self aware. Seemed amusingly appropriate to him that she just called him the Gallifreyan equivalent of 'daddy.' He was a bit _more_ than surprised at hearing her mental voice though. That was a first. Avatar was one thing, but that was something completely new.

There was a wooden creak, and Rose's blond head popped out from behind the headboard of the bed. _'You flew her yourself! Solo! On Target! Oh Rose, I'm so _Proud_ of you!'_ he beamed unabashedly. She looked at him and grinned, then saw who was next to him and scowled.

Cocking the _very large rifle _that he hadn't noticed before, Rose stepped threateningly (as threateningly as one could when wearing a dressing gown and bunny slippers) from the bed, giving whomever that woman was the _one look_ that could possibly rival the terror of the Oncoming Storm: the Tyler Glare. "Let. My. Husband. _Go_."

The look on her face made John blanch. _'Don't shoot her!'_ he thought to her quickly as she aimed at Romana. He added an image of her holding up the Queen in Westminster Abbey just to let her know this was a bad idea. While she did flinch at that, she wasn't deterred.

Oddly enough, he wasn't sure how to feel right at that moment. There was amused humour at what she was wearing; a bit of horror at seeing her point a rifle at Romana; some wonder over where the hell she got that thing to begin with; and… the sight of her coming to his rescue like that had him more than just a bit randy.

For her part, Romana was nonplussed. Looking over the girl, she realized that this was the same companion that the Doctor had lost. "You must be Rose. The metacrisis was just telling me about you."

Fuming now, Rose growled at her, "That _metacrisis_ happens to be my _husband_, you cow. His name's Johnathon Donald _Smith_!"

Head whipping about to stare at her, John thought _oh hell_, when he felt Rose's anger expound exponentially. Foregoing that alliterative, he sidestepped in front of Romana with his arms out to the sides. "Rose, no! Stop! I wont let you do this!"

"John, get outta the way!" Rose complained, then paused. This felt more than a little familiar to her, just now.

Shaking his head, John continued. "Rose… sweetheart… This is _President_ Romanadvoratrelundar, _and,_ the closest thing you'll ever get to an actual sister-in-law."

Rose's eyes flicked to his, and she saw what he was thinking: Her standing in front of a Dalek while _he_ was the one pointing the gun. More role reversals, but she didn't care. _'Sister-in-Law?'_ This was intolerable!

Stepping forward, John began pulsing his love for her through the bond, realising then what it must've been like for Rose to see him like this, angry and determined and full of love, aiming a weapon at someone who was just doing what they felt was right. "You need to listen to me, Rose. We are on the _Gallifrey_ station. The nice lady behind me is the one in charge of the Time Lords."

"No!" Rose complained. "She abducted you! Right from our bloody bed!"

Closer now, he could snatch the gun out, but he wanted to talk her down. He did rest his hand on the working end of it, though. "It's all right, honey, I promise. There are no Daleks, Davros, or Emperor; No Ood, werewolves, Sycorax, Cybermen, or devils… Jersey or otherwise. You're on my home turf hon, and apparently I scare the _pants_ off of them."

Running the back of his fingers down her cheek, he saw her eyes flutter shut, then snap open, full of worry. "It's okay, darling. I promise." When she bit her lip, he smiled. _'Love you, Rose.'_

That seemed to break through to her, because she let go of the gun and threw her arms around his neck. _'Love you too! So so much, I can't stand it!'_ "The day after our bonding!" she wailed into his shoulder, fit to tears. "It's not _fair_!"

Tossing the rifle onto the bed, he told the dear to hide it away. After it vanished, he held on to Rose with both arms and kissed her cheek. "I have to say dear, the Arthur Dent look looks a hell of a lot better on you than me. The pink bunny slippers really sell it!"

"Shut it," she protested through her giggles.

John thought to her. _'You're getting so shagged when this is over,' _and grinned at her squeak from that bit of information.

It was his turn though, when she gave him a mental visual of exactly what she wasn't wearing. _'That had better be a promise, mister.'_ She thoroughly enjoyed that little growl of approval he made.

A soft clearing of Romana's throat brought them around. Rose blushed, and gave her a rather apologetic smile. "Uhm, s-sorry about that," she stammered. "I, uh… well, you see I kind of panicked, you know. Waking up to find out my husband's been kidnapped kinda made me flip off my nut there… a bit." She cringed.

It looked like Romana was going to say something, but the door hissed open. Narvin led four guards into the room, shouting orders. "Secure the room! Secure them! Secure… is that a TARDIS?"

"No, it's four poster bed," John mocked. "Of course she's our TARDIS!" he said petulantly. "She's brilliant!" He blatantly refrained from calling him 'Narvin the Nartian' for fear of being poked to death by Rose. However, seeing as she 'heard' that little thought through the bond, he got a few good pokes anyway.

Drawing his staser, Narvin pointed it at John's head. "Silence! You're not even a real person! You're just a copy of a pathetic excuse of a Time Lord!"

"Oi!" Rose shouted. "Back off, you right bastard!" Glaring at him, her anger flashed afresh, and she had a _real _target for her fury. "While you lot were muckin' about up here, John was busy saving the universe from Davros! He never asked to be what he is, but he took on an entire Dalek fleet by _himself_!"

She shrieked loud enough to make her mother proud, had she heard it (and she probably did, for that matter). "John's only _half_ Time Lord, and he's _still_ better than you! Now get that damned gun out of his face!"

"Rose, honey," John tried to intervene, but she wasn't about to be swayed. She was furious.

"And another thing!" She knocked the staser out of his hand and shoved a finger in Narvin's face. "Don't you _dare_ call the Doctor pathetic! They call him the Oncoming Storm for a _reason_! Daleks _Run_ when he's around! Or did you _forget_ the Battle of the Nightmare Child?"

To his credit, Narvin actually blanched at that. Still though, that inferior creature just disarmed him! "Arrest her!"

"Belay that!" Romana bellowed, getting everyone's attention. "Ignore that order and return to your posts. Thank you for your attention, but your presence is no longer required."

"Madam President!" Narvin protested at full volume.

Turning her icy glare towards him, Romana was rather quiet. "Coordinator Narvin, I suggest you return to your office and your duties. This situation is under control. However, we will talk in the near future about your present behaviour."

Fuming silently, Narvin tossed a data crystal onto Romana's desk. "Madam President, that is the file you requested. May I recommend that you read it as soon as possible?" Clicking his heels together (this time it was Rose's turn to hold back a remark, though it was about ruby slippers and yellow brick roads, instead of 'Nartians'), he gave a curt nod and left the room.

Once things settled and it was just the three of them, Romana blew out a breath. "Now. Where were we?"


	3. Deciding Factors

FROM THE ASHES_  
__Chapter Three_

* * *

**_A/N:_**___ Impossible situations make impossible possible… or something._

_Allons-y!_

* * *

_Restless Goddess: Hahaha, this was one of my FAVORITE parts of the thread. Speaking of said thread (heh), I stole some of Jonn's words. At least I'm crediting him though, right?_

* * *

Staring at the door, John couldn't help his next words. "Impossible man. I know you need him Romana, but there are times when I wish he would take a long walk off a short pier or something. Prat." Rose's hold on him got his attention though, and it seemed that her fury quelled to an aftermath of tears.

Unable to speak through her quiet sobs, Rose thought to John, _'I thought I'd lost you,' _shaking in his embrace. _'Then that bloke with the gun to your head. Please… God, don't ever leave me!'_ Unable to even think now, she just let him hold her.

_'I will never leave you,'_ John said, pouring his emotions into her. _'You are more important to me than the air I breathe.'_

Watching the couple console each other, Romana couldn't help but be impressed by them: one had defeated the Creator of the Daleks with the flick of a switch, and the other destroyed the Emperor of the Daleks with a wave of her hand. It was astounding and terrifying all at once. Seeing Rose's resolve in nothing more than glorified bed clothes really surprised her. What's more, the metacrisis stepping in between them to solve things by talking was completely unexpected.

Blinking once, Romana saw the tightly woven and threaded filaments of time binding these two people together, and a frown went over her face at the sight of it. That meant the metacrisis was being truthful about being married, and she didn't know what that could possibly mean.

While their previous showing of courage and their current moment was touching to witness, the fact remained that they had grown their own time capsule. That simple fact answered another question: This being knew both the intricacies of time travel, as well as the workings of Gallifreyan technology.

Why, in the vastness of the cosmos, didn't the Doctor destroy or reabsorb this monstrosity?

Quelling her emotions, Romana focused on keeping herself stoic, coming back to what the metacrisis said about Narvin. "Yes, well, his organisational skills are unparalleled in regards to the temporal fabric of the vortex. In addition, he is able to keep things running smoothly."

Turning his head to look at her, John wasn't impressed. "That xenophobic bigot could make _Davros_ proud," he said rather darkly.

Changing the subject, Romana raised her eyebrow. "John Smith?" The hint of a smirk played at her lips in reference to a rather old joke.

Her teasing inquiry had the proper effect, and John grinned at her. "Well, it's not like I could use anything else he'd been called. Some of them aren't nice in conversation, you know. And besides, once certain Earth traditions are taken care of, Smith will give way to Tyler."

Eyes popping, Rose looked up at him with a huge grin on her face. "You'd do that?"

Glancing down, John's smile was as big as hers. "Oh yes."

Watching the young woman embrace the metacrisis with a happy squeal, Romana turned her attention to the data crystal Narvin had rather unceremoniously given her. Plugging it in, she read the screen on her desk, rapidly flicking through it and absorbing the information. Her face a mask of concern, she eyed the couple and briefly pitied Rose.

Walling herself up in her mind, Romana cleared her throat again to get their attention. She waited until they turned to her, holding hands. "Reviewing the data, it seems there are some rather pressing issues to address. First, there's the matter of your creation being a fixed point in time."

Rose flinched when John's hand gripped hers tighter. Turning her head to look at him, she could see that all his loving mirth had evaporated. Waves of worry slammed through the bond and into her, and she reacted instantly by removing her hand from his and sliding her arm around his back. Just seconds ago she was the one needing reassurance; the tables had turned again, and whatever this Romanawhozits was saying had him in the same state she had been.

Seeing that he was paying serious attention to this, Romana nodded. "Second, is your knowledge of Time Lord technology."

"What's wrong with that?" Rose asked, looking at her with a confused expression on her face. "'S not like we're running rampant through the universe and being terrors or anything. Haven't had that much chance yet, but we help people when we can." John's other hand coming round to rest on her arm quieted her.

"That's not the issue," Romana said quietly, shaking her head. Looking at John, she asked a rather poignant question. "Can you unequivocally guarantee that you won't upset the balance? Are you able to see what should and shouldn't be? Knowledge is one thing, but the use of such knowledge is in question. Then there's the question of your stability."

Leaning his head back, John's eyes were rather wide. "You cannot possibly think that I would… Are you contemplating what I think is going on in that brilliant brain of yours?" he paused and went over things in his mind, seeing the various points of view. Frowning, he glared at her. "You would!"

Before Rose could ask what he meant, John's gob was on a tear. "Balanced or unbalanced, the entire thing is ridiculous. The confluence of energies surrounding my birth more than likely quelled any sort of mental impropriety. If anything, I know for a fact that the Doctor was the one that went round the bend afterwards. _And_, when everything is said and done, there's this notion that I would purposely or accidentally break history that is completely, _completely_ out of character for me. I mean _Look_," he waved his hands over himself. "If this had happened to the Rani or the Master, then yes, I'd be the first in line supporting you. But, the fact remains: I. Am. The. Doctor. There's a touch of human going around in here, but the source of that was a brilliant individual who wouldn't harm a fly." Pausing to inhale, he finished his rant in thundering Gallifreyan. ["The point is moot!"]

Romana sat there and actually considered for a moment that the retrieval team had taken the wrong man. He certainly _sounded_ exactly like the previous incarnation. Still though, she couldn't abandon her position, no matter the situation or occurrence. She was the President, and her people came first. ["I'm sorry."]

"What's happening?" Rose asked, completely lost. The amount of alarm going through John's mind both before, during, and after his rant skyrocketed at Romana's indecipherable words. She started when the President called in the guards, and clung to John more than a little fearful. _I need my damned gun, _she lamented.

Four guards came into the office and flanked the couple. "By the trust levelled in me from the survivors of Gallifrey, Mutau Sigma, otherwise known as Johnathon Donald Smith, the metacrisis of the Doctor, is to be placed under arrest. Mental evaluation will occur by placing the hybrid in front of the Untempered Schism. The results of the evaluation will determine the status of his continued existence."

Mouth open in outright shock, Rose angrily shouted. "What? He said you were _family_!" While she had been stunned, the outright terror that assaulted her wasn't hers. Turning her head, she saw John's completely gobsmacked expression.

Feeling Rose clamp herself around him, John buried his nose in her hair. _'I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry.'_

Feeling wetness in her hair, Rose realized he was actually crying. There was this strange sort of locking up going on within him, and it felt like being in the middle of a train wreck. The buzz of conflicting emotions seemed to cancel almost everything out except the sense of outright panic. It was at this point that she realized that John was in a state of shock, and it pissed her off.

Looking to the woman behind the desk as they were led out, Rose couldn't stop the words if she tried. "He called you _sister_! You bloody coward! Hiding behind your crest of power b'cause you're too afraid of what you don't understand! You fuckin' traitor! He said you're fam'ly! What fam'ly causes this much pain, you _cunt_!"

For her part, Romana couldn't look at either of them. Instead, she reread the information on her screen. Sometimes she really hated her job. She did manage not to flinch at the harsh words, though they cut rather deep.

While Rose was giving her the what for, John looked over to the TARDIS. _'Love you, you silly girl. If the worst happens, find your Matron.'_ He heard her whimpering, and watched when she changed shells again. Instead of something ridiculous, like a carnival popcorn machine or something similarly out of place, she formed a solid white box resembling concrete. He couldn't see all sides, but he suspected that it didn't have a door. Grinning sadly, he congratulated her. _'Proud of you.'_

Hearing the dear's whimpering, Rose looked over and saw that she changed. While she was grateful that no one could enter without them, the sight of her in such a state caused her hard mask of anger to crack, allowing a few tears to leak through.

Led through the corridors of the station, John and Rose were guarded on all sides as they were escorted to the prison level. Arms around each other, they were quiet both vocally as well as mentally. Neither of them knew what to think about this turn of events, but they both silently agreed about the complete unfairness of the universe.

Once they were in the cell, Rose watched John listen at the door, then flick his sonic out. Great. Something else she forgot to grab on her way out the door. She went and left without her sonic. It was at this point that she contemplated having John adjust all the pockets of her wardrobe to be bigger on the inside, and make spare sonics for every single one of those pockets.

Whirring his sonic at the latch in the door, John stopped and swore. "Fuck! Deadlocked! Well, I mean, of _course_ it is," he said rather petulantly. "She wouldn't have let me keep it otherwise!" He kicked the door. "Damned temporal cells!" he complained.

"John," Rose said quietly, getting his attention. "_Please_ tell me what's happening. I'm almost used to your brain going ninety miles an hour in mine, but it's all quiet, and what she said…" She paused and wiped a tear off her face. "What's happening?" she pleaded. "What's the Untempered Schism?"

Pulling her into a hug, John tried to explain. "I don't know why she's using the Schism. It doesn't make sense, but she's as broken as I was after the Time War. Where I was fighting on the front lines, she was under near constant torture for the duration of the war, by Rassilon himself."

"She deserved it!" Rose blurted, then blanched as John pulled back to look at her in shock. "I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I… she… this just makes me so _angry_. I thought… if she knew so much pain, why would she put you - put us - through this?" Pressing herself closer, she hid under his chin. "Sorry. But, what is that thing supposed to be?"

"A gap in he fabric of reality," he said quietly. Noting her flinch, he nodded. "Yeah, just as upsetting as that sounded. Initiation to the Academy involves taking students to the Schism at the age of eight. There are three reactions to seeing into the terrible power of eternity. Some are inspired by it. Others, like me, ran from it. The rest…" he paused and swallowed. "Well, they went mad. While I ran before, I don't know what will happen now. There's every possibility that I'll go off my nut completely."

Hearing him say all of that, she felt his emotional reaction to the possibilities and understood. He was afraid of going mad and leaving her alone. Or, and possibly worse, drag her into that madness with him. Eyes wide, she looked up to meet his fearful gaze with her fiercely loving one. "You wont go mad," she whispered. "I wont _allow_ it!" she hissed.

John stared at his wife, taking in her dishevelled hair, her fiery eyes, the way she stood proud and strong even in her dressing gown. Only the trembling of her lower lip belied her determined stance, and so, doing the only thing he wanted in the universe right at that moment, John claimed those trembling lips with his, pulling Rose as close as possible as he kissed her with all the passion and love he felt for her. Though he tried to shield the thought from her, for all he knew, this was the only chance they had left.


	4. Desperation and the Enclave

**FROM THE ASHES**_  
__Chapter Four_

* * *

**_A/N:_**___ The delay on this has been entirely my fault. Real world personal matters completely __silenced____ all of my muses. While things aren't perfect as of yet, as things __rarely____ are, they are improving._

_Allons-y!_

* * *

_Restless Goddess: __I didn't touch the part in the middle about the TARDIS; that's Jonn's genius, not mine. But I did touch the bit about the touching. xD_

* * *

While they desperately kissed each other, Rose wrapped her arms and legs around John. Even though she knew her dressing gown was the only stitch of clothing that hid her modesty, she simply Did. Not. Care. The feel of his denim trousers was rough, but that didn't bother her either. All she knew was that he needed her, and she was determined to meet that need with everything she had and more.

Their snog was fierce and possibly bruising in its intensity, and John remembered then what she'd told him about what she wasn't wearing. That, in addition to her complete devotion to him, caused a thought to spark. Realizing what he was considering and her ready acceptance of that, he came to the conclusion rather rapidly: The Doctor would _never _do this.

Manoeuvring his right hand down, since it was the weaker of the two, he undid his trousers and was silently grateful that he'd forgotten his briefs that morning (no doubt in his haste to get breakfast and the hope that this would happen in less dire circumstances). When his trousers slipped down his hips, his silent question was answered with a gentle nod. Not once did their mouths part.

Nothing about this coupling was gentle in the slightest, and was even close to violent with his entry. Even if it was, however, Rose was completely ready for him, their kissing alone making her need him as much as he needed her. John's concern over hurting her was completely unwarranted; her slick heat encapsulated him, and they shouted into each others mouths over the sensation.

Unlike their first time, there were no memories but the one being born in anguish. Instead, all of their focus was on the dual sensations coursing through the bond. Even still, that bliss didn't stop John from swearing.

Lifting his right hand, he aimed it at the monitoring device in the upper corner of the room. He shot the British V's, the American Finger, then went on to tear whoever was watching a new one in the one handed sign language of of Korel IV, telling them rather vehemently that he was more alive than they ever could be. He wasn't sure, but he was pretty certain the words 'wankers' and 'nonces' were in there somewhere. He _did_ remember using 'Omega's Orifice' when describing their ability to cosmically screw up though, however. _Twice_.

Soaring through their coupling, Rose managed to snicker a bit when she realized he was telling them off with one hand even while the other pulled her tight against him, sheathing him to the hilt. She savoured every thrust, doing her best to sear that moment into her memory, _including_ the ridiculousness of his silent ranting. Even still, she lost her concentration when his explosion caused the entire world to go quiet in her mind, even if she was anything _but_ quiet.

In that moment of completion, time stopped for both of them, and they fell into brilliant ecstasy as the entirety of their beings fused into one.

* * *

The young TARDIS was sobbing uncontrollably. Feeling the desperate act of love that her pilots were engaged in was tearing her apart. Instead of the usual clutter of things and knick-knacks that were normally scattered about, her matrix was completely barren and white everywhere. If you could see into it, the only hint of colour – if you could call it that - was the representation of her avatar.

Unlike her usual semblance of clothing that Rose wore in her youth, the dear was cloaked in flat ebony robes of mourning, devoid of all colour or depth. With the hood up and her sitting, her arms wrapped around her knees and her head buried in them, she was nothing but a singular black dot in the white nothingness. Unable to help her parents escape, feeling what her primary pilot thought about the situation, and her secondary's determination to follow him no matter _what_ happened, she honestly thought they were going to die.

Her unrestrained wailing wasn't ignored.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, the young dear shrieked in terror and scrambled away. Her hood fell back, and she was shocked to see dozens of other avatars around her. "Don't touch me! Stay away from me!" she shouted. "Matron!" she screamed at the top of her mind.

Looking at them all, she could tell what their purposes were, solely from their representative attire. Some had clothing from various locations throughout the universe. But, the rest were clad with all sorts of armour; from the shining plate of lower tech planets, to the more subtle crimson and white fabric of Gallifrey that would turn away projectiles and energy blasts. They wore everything from swords to guns adorning their belts as well: The remnants of the War TARDIS fleet.

The one that had touched her shoulder was an older looking male, wearing the vestments of research. "We mean you no harm, little one. Why are you crying so?"

Outraged over that, she shouted angrily at them. "No harm? Your pilots are going to _kill_ mine!" she wailed. A look of shock crossed every face she saw, and her anger morphed into confusion. "Aren't they?"

Waves of compassion flew over her from this male, and his look of understanding confused her even more. "This is before your Temporal Ascension, isn't it?" he asked quietly.

She was completely lost now. "Pardon?"

Now that she wasn't scrambling backwards any more, he knelt next to her. "I see your matron hasn't told you about that just yet. While that is somewhat understandable, I am a bit _surprised_ that you are able to traverse the web of time at all."

Indignant now, she frowned at him. "Of course I can! My father taught me everything I know!"

That small statement made his brow rise. Holding up a finger, he looked to the others. Silently, they each reached out and felt the beings that piloted the young dear. Desperate love was felt along with touches of rage, despair, and bliss. They looked about at each other in astonishment when they recognized something, then the male before her looked back down with a small smile.

"He didn't teach you _everything_, my dear." Holding up a hand to silence the coming protest, he continued. "You were grown rather quickly, but your relative age should have enabled your ascension. With your permission, we've agreed to help you along."

Looking around warily at the assemblage, she locked eyes with this stranger. "What would I have to do?"

Smiling warmly, he nodded. "Just allow me to aid you in fulfilling your profound potential."

Her brow bunched together. "Why you?"

He reached over to wipe away her tears. "It is my _right_ as your Patron."

The young dear's eyes were wide with shock, but it quickly shifted to outright wrath when she sensed his pilot. "_Your_ pilot ORDERED mine before your stupid and _terrible_ copy of the Untempered Schism! You're not my patron! I don't believe you!" she spat angrily. "You're lying!"

While they were talking, the others had formed a wide circle around them. A wordless song began rather quietly, and she flinched from the power of it. Taking her hands in his, the one claiming to be her patron spoke quietly. "She has done so only with my influence. I know you do not understand now, and are terribly afraid, but this will herald something beautiful and glorious."

"They don't have to die!" she chokingly protested through her renewed tears. "Make it not so!" she pleaded.

His voice began resonating with the others as the song formed a single and devastating chord, and they all began to softly glow with the golden energy of the Vortex. Holding her hands firmly with his right hand, he lifted his left. The chorus of their voices seemed to focus on that hand, making it shine brightly. _'See everything, my childe. Understand all.'_

She was shocked that his mental voice resonated through the barriers of her mind, along the same path her Matron used. Distantly, she heard her Matron join in the chord. When his fingertips touched her forehead, gold light radiated out of her eyes. The chorus reached its crescendo, and the short months of her existence was immediately overshadowed by Eternity. All That Was, All That Is, All That Would Ever Be; _exploded_ in her mind at that moment.

Tears streaming down her face, understanding flooded her consciousness. The young dear joined them with her high voice as she flung herself into her Patron's embrace.

* * *

"That is _completely disgusting_!" Narvin shouted at the monitor. He wasn't precisely certain exactly _which_ appalled him more: the brazenly _primitive_ act of copulation that was occurring on the monitor; the fact that it was a metacrisis clone of the Doctor performing that act with a _human_; or the endless trail of filth that hand of his was performing for the surveillance cameras. Regardless, the entirety of what was on his monitor had him to the point of retching, despite the pleasure he'd initially had at seeing the two… _things_ confined.

Standing abruptly, he left his office with the determined intent to set the pair of them in separate cells. However, he was interrupted by the President's robot dog of all things. When it came to a stop in front of him, it lifted from the floor to hover in front of him at eye level. "Coordinator. The President has requested your presence at the Great Console."

He frowned at the order, but he couldn't fault the dog. Of everyone on the station, that robotic mutt was exactly what he appeared to be without pretence or deception. On top of that, it – _he_, he reminded himself, remembering the President's ridiculous assertion of the robot's status as male – he was beyond reproach as a messenger and facilitator. That above all else actually earned the device a certain sense of respect out of him. All the same, _this_ message was somewhat worrisome. "What in the cosmos does she need me _there_ for?" he asked.

The sensor dishes that mimed the appearance of ears swivelled back and forth. "The metacrisis of the Doctor is to be put before the Untempered Schism."

Eyes wide, Narvin was completely shocked at that. "Is she actually contemplating making that abomination a Time Lord?"

"Insufficient data," K9 whirred.

Closing his eyes, Narvin postulated the idea of simply tossing that thing out of an air lock – the clone, not the dog. "Very well. Come along K9."

"Coordinator," K9 said, nodding his head. He lowered himself to the deck and followed Narvin out of his office.

Narvin clasped his hands behind his back as he all but stomped through the corridor, and what few people were there shied away from him as he passed. The look on his face usually meant someone was going to be put in detention at best, disintegration at worst. No one wanted to find out which it was.

A door hissed open for Narvin, and he walked inside to come to a stop. When it closed behind K9, Narvin ordered the destination, "Cauldron," and heard the answering chime. Unable to take it any more, he blurted at nearly full volume, "This is madness!"

Whirring, K9 spoke up. "Negative, Coordinator. This is a lift."

He whipped his head around to look at the dog as he was irritably reminded of the literal nature of his programming. Frustrated, his hands went out in front of him. "Not this. _This_!"

K9's sensor dishes swivelled again. "Insufficient information to formulate a proper response." That was an approximation of the robot dog's version of 'I beg your pardon?' or, if the robot had lacked a courtesy circuit, 'What the fuck?'

Sighing and shaking his head at the notion of reprogramming the thing to make it understand abstract thought - even knowing the consequences that the President would visit upon him - he did his best to explain to the infernal contraption. If anything, he needed to vent. "What is the point of placing that _creature_ in front of the Schism? I _do not_ understand the reasoning behind the President's decision. That thing is not a proper Gallifreyan!"

Clicking and whirring in thought, K9 replied, "The purpose of viewing the Vortex through the Untempered Schism is to gauge the reactions of the individual. Inspiration has been documented to increase one's proclivity to create or invent technology in eighty percent of the individuals documented, with the remainder pursuing political or academic endeavours. Fear has been documented to engender one's ability to correct temporal paradoxes, or for use in scouting, and/or research into alien cultures in nearly every case. Madness has been documented to develop the military mind of strategy, with a small margin for error in creating complete insanity. I am unable to compute the President's reasoning to place the creature before the Untempered Schism. However some aliens have been placed before it in the past, including humans."

Grumbling over the complexity of the response, Narvin's head snapped to the dog again at it's last statement. "Need I remind you of Pandora or the Dogma Virus?" he snapped.

"Negative, Coordinator. Events are documented in my memory banks," K9 stated flatly. "There is no established evidence of humans or aliens utilizing the ritual as cause for either."

"None of it would have happened!" Narvin snapped louder.

Whirring in thought, K9 replied, "Insufficient data to correlate."

Huffing at that, Narvin was petulant. "Oh be quiet."

They continued in silence for a while before K9 spoke up again. "Query."

Narvin sighed. "Yes?"

"What was your response to the ritual?" K9 asked.

The lift doors opened. "Inspired, of course," Narvin lied through his teeth as he stepped out. Technically that was correct, but being inspired to run headlong into the Schism itself wasn't exactly what one would normally consider as _proper_ inspiration. Several officiators had to restrain him, and that act was the source of his tiresome nickname of 'Wrong Way'.

Coming into the Cauldron, or the Heart of the Station as it was sometimes called, Narvin saw the President at the Great Console. Currently, she was inputting data. Frowning over this ridiculous situation, he shouted at her from across the wide expanse. "Madam President!"

Ever since she made the decision, Romana was second guessing herself. Even while she was inputting the programming that would ensure Johnathon Smith - the _metacrisis_, she forced herself to call him – would be held in place before the Schism, she couldn't help but be moved by his… _its_ devotion to Rose. While she cringed at the harsh words that had flown from his hand, she'd focused on the emotions that the pair were quite literally radiating from the cell. Even though most couldn't sense anything, she felt their desperate need for each other over and beyond their rage and fear over the situation.

Throughout all of this, Romana reminded herself of her sworn duty to defend Gallifrey, in spirit if not planet. Her choices were acutely curtailed with that responsibility. Frowning, she wiped away a tear that escaped. In those short moments in her office, she came to respect both of them for their actions against the Daleks, even coming to admire or even _like_ them both. The metacrisis was more open about its feelings, in comparison to its progenitor, while Rose touched her heart at her passionate defence of her mate. She couldn't even begin to fathom how a human traversed the Vortex with an infant TARDIS, but that fact alone earned respect.

Sighing again, she reinforced her hatred for her job. She had no choice. If it was a danger to the universe, then the metacrisis had to be destroyed. No question.

She was pulled violently out of her thoughts as Narvin bellowed. Ice settled into her veins as she turned to face the man she hated to respect. "What is it, Coordinator? In the past ten microspans, I have had no less than _two_ formal protests over your behaviour." She glared at him. "While I understand your position and opinion, I do no answer to you. You answer to me, are we clear?"

* * *

After the quite literal spur of the moment activity that Donna's memories labelled as a 'quickie', John collapsed onto the couch bed that was in the cell, then straightened Rose's dressing gown before letting her slip to the side of him, pulling his trousers up as he did so. Neither of them wanted to let go, and they continued to cling to each other; it was partially the after effect or glow of their consummation, but mostly it was due to their terror over the situation.

Deciding that there was a need for levity, John smirked. "Well now, _this_ certainly makes being locked up together a bit nicer, don't you think?"

Sharing an incredulous glance at each other, the pair of them bust out laughing. Rose swatted his arm playfully as she did and nuzzled her head into the base of his neck, her mind going ninety miles an hour in his head while laughter gave way to sobs. _'Love you, love you SO MUCH! Not gonna leave you, gonna be there with you, gonna look with you, gonna be by your side, always, always, love you, love you, not gonna leave you, gonna go WITH you, not gonna leave you, GONNA GO WTIH YOU! Love you, love you, love you forever, forever, eternity… MINE!'_

Fetching a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, he shushed and soothed her while wiping her eyes. "There's no other place I want to be than by your side. But I don't like the idea of you gazing along with me. I would literally _die_ to keep you safe…"

The rest of his spiel was completely overrun by her immediate protest. "Ohhhhhh no you don't! I know you want me safe, but _you_ know how much I hate being left behind!" Her tears halting from her flash of determination, she stared into his eyes. "Not. Gonna. 'Appen. I know you don't want to lose me, and I don't want to lose you just as much if not more." Lips quivering, she buried her face into his neck again. "I'd rather die with you than live without you," she confessed rather quietly with a tremor in her voice, knowing full well that he knew that already but needing to say in nonetheless.

Knowing it and hearing it were two separate things altogether, and John clutched her to him tightly. "What the bloody hell is the matter with that naff woman?" he snapped to the ceiling. "Where is the _real_ Gallifrey? This is a dark echo of such a shining place…." He lost his words as he joined her in her tears.

Not caring about any bruising that may have occurred from their desperate moment, nor the ones they were currently inflicting from holding each other so close, they simply cried and sobbed for quite a long time. Professions of their love for each other flew back and forth between them.

After they were spent, John made to stand in order to get to the sink and bring back a wet flannel, but Rose wasn't having it. She swung her legs over his lap and tucked her feet under his knees to keep him in place. However, her pleading to the universe to simply keep him there was for naught when the door slid open.

Turning his head at the sound, John was surprised when the two that brought him to the station were both in the doorway. What took him completely off guard was the matching looks on their faces; Marona and Dorsal both looked to be filled with regret. "It's time," they said at once, and John finally understood. Regardless of how things were going, they had overheard and actually _sympathized_ with them. His look of realization caused them both to nod in synch with each other. Looking down to their tightly clasped hands for confirmation, he grinned sadly. They were a bonded pair as well.

Hearing their pronouncement, Rose burst into tears again. She wanted nothing more than to have John know every single moment of her life, to somehow bring them even closer together. She wanted him to know that he had her _soul_. "I know, love. I know," he said quietly. "You will always have mine." Rose kissed him again, and didn't even protest when John stood with her in his arms.

After letting her back down to the floor, clasped hands weren't near enough. John and Rose both had an arm around each other as six guards escorted them down to the Cauldron. With their link wide open between them, they both felt like this was a march to the gallows. It didn't matter which of them thought of it first, because they completely agreed with that assessment of the situation.


	5. The Light of Creation

**FROM THE ASHES**_  
__Chapter Five_

* * *

_RG: Lemme just take a moment to preen here – this was my FAVORITE part of the most awesome RP EVER! Much praise to Jonn for capturing multiple posts from four different people into one big chapter; I must say, he has mad skillz. :)_

_JW: This is the moment where everything happens. She says mad skillz... I say damned hard!_

* * *

The entrance to the Cauldron that Rose and John were led through was one of many, and not one that was overly ornate or grand in any sort of manner. One would assume that it was a secret entrance, from the way it blended into the rest of the wall. In any event, the noise of a heated argument was readily apparent when the door silently slid open. While they were clinging to each other, the sounds of Narvin and Romana arguing at nearly full volume actually distracted them from the situation.

The two Time Lords were facing each other in front of the Great Console with their arms crossed. The Console itself was a rather elaborate version of one that could be found in a TARDIS, save for the fact that it was twice as large and the six sections were aligned in an inverse half elliptical circle. Two technicians were politely ignoring the interchange (though almost certainly listening in all the same), focusing instead on their respective duties.

The door opened both in the middle of the argument, as well as Narvin's sentence. "…ly clear. That's not the issue here, Madam President. Your prior rulings to allow aliens before the Schism is. The Dogma Virus…"

"Are you accusing me for that débâcle, Coordinator?" Romana shouted, interrupting him. "If we were to start assigning blame, those individuals would never have been placed before it, had they been properly vetted through background checks - which was _your_ responsibility!"

_'Dogma Virus?'_ Rose thought, and was immediately beset with images from John of Time Lords regenerating into walking corpses that would put any zombie film to shame. Shuddering at that, she got a brief history of the movement known as Free Time. Filing all of that away under 'things that make me want to vomit', she focused more on what had just rather violently grabbed John's attention.

On the far side of the room stood an odd disk. The edge of it looked like a strange mix of future tech and Jules Verne, with alternating silvered and copper coloured bits that had the bubbled language of Gallifrey all over it. The disk itself appeared to be a swirl of metal. Rose heard John quite plainly in her head with a shuddering _'Oh God.'_ Then an image of that middle swirly bit superimposed itself over the disc to show the spiral open like an iris, revealing the raw vortex behind it.

Gaping at what she now knew to be the _closed_ Untempered Schism, Rose's hold on John's side became even more vice-like. She heard his internal monologue on forcing himself to be strong for her, and she reminded him that he wasn't alone in this. _'Gonna to go with you. Gonna watch it with you. Not leaving me behind. You're mine and I love you!'_

She blinked when there was the sound of a door slam in her head, and she looked up to see him staring at the bickering pair. _Did he just shut me out?_ she thought.

_'No. Just paying attention to other things,'_ John replied. _'That was more for me than you. __Fear behind a door, nothi__ng more. I'm still here.'_

Nodding slightly, Rose tried to do the same thing with hers. Couldn't quite get the door to close completely though – it got stuck in the jamb the way warped wood does in the summer. In her imaginings, John's hand pressed against the door, and she had to grin at herself over how he helped her no matter what the situation.

The door finally clicked shut, and she felt his mind run over, around, and through hers in comforting waves. Smiling over how he tried to soothe her even when he was beyond scared, she fell even harder for the man. Watching how he caressed her mind, she sent out sensations of her own. She must've done something right, because the tension in his lanky frame seemed to relax a bit.

Throughout all of this, the argument that was going on had them at a loss. There was finger pointing, shouting, and blame being flung all over the place. Feeling John's dumbfounded shock over how Narvin was behaving, Rose came to the conclusion that the man simply did not know when to shut up.

The arrogance and disdain that Narvin was projecting came out in a verbal torrent. "How completely fascinating, Madam President. It is most gratifying that my concerns over the current situation have reached your ears." He swept his arm out towards the middle of the large chamber. "All of this? The potential danger? To coddle these aliens in such a manner, defiling our most ancient of customs, is an affront to everything we stand for! Why are we repeating such an act when the previous caused such harm? While it is satisfying that this will turn their brains into so much pudding, are you actually contemplating sending either of them through the academy as well? Maybe they'll actually learn how to properly pilot a TARDIS!

"At least in the days of old, we actually had a planet to fall back on when things went completely mad," he said with more than spite and malice.

That last biting, sarcastic remark inflamed the situation and caused Romana to snap completely. "How DARE you! If you share the old regime's views on everything, then perhaps I made a mistake in inviting you on board." She swept her arm towards the planetary detritus on the observation screen. "Would you have been more satisfied in remaining on Gallifrey with Rassilon and his brainwashed puppets? I should have LEFT you there to burn with that _MONSTER_!"

John's mouth hung open in complete shock. "You don't mean that," he said quietly in the lull that bombshell left in the room. "Even if he's completely incapable of having a positive social outlook, that was completely uncalled for." Remembering just how the Doctor regenerated from the mental download he gave him, he was completely disgusted with it all. "Rassilon _was_ a monster, but you would _never_ consciously leave anyone behind."

About to comment on things herself, Rose was reminded again of just how much she loved John. His quiet, sorrowful words over that outburst stole the biting barbs that nearly came out of her. Instead, she squeezed him tighter from the side.

Neither of them seemed to hear him, and Romana appeared to burn holes in the man with her glare alone. "Not that it matters, but I am not turning them into Time Lords. The Metacrisis will be judged before the Schism. His reactions will be monitored and his fate sealed, whatever it may be. Witness this if you wish, but you SHALL REMAIN SILENT!"

Echoes of her words were the only sounds, save for the monitoring equipment and the hum of the engines. Narvin stepped away and placed his hands behind his back, his face a blank mask. Satisfied, Romana turned to the guards. "Place him before the Schism and _restrain_ her!"

Marona and Dorsal immediately grabbed Rose from either side by her arms, while two others did the same to John. Forcibly separated, Rose came completely unhinged as she felt her heart ripping in half. "NO!" she shrieked, struggling against them. "_NO!_ YOU CAN'T _DO_ THIS! DON'T YOU _DARE_ TAKE HIM FROM ME YOU _BITCH_!" Unable to control her thoughts, they slammed outward towards Romana. _'I hope you and every one of your regenerations lives with the pain of what you've just done!'_

Flinching visibly, Romana turned her gaze towards Rose in outright shock – a _human_ just instigated telepathic contact with her! _'I know this does not mean anything to you, but I am truly sorry for what is about to happen. Please understand tha__t this MUST be done. I am left with no other choice.'_

Stunned that she could hear Romana in her head, Rose scowled at her. _'There's always a choice. The Doctor and that innocent man – my HUSBAND – taught me that!'_

John was unsuccessfully fighting the two guards that were dragging him up the dais. Panting wildly, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. _I will not scream. I must stay strong for her. Oh God, she can hear me!_

_'You haven't lost your pride, John,' _Rose thought to him, pulling and fighting against the guards hold on her._ 'I'm proud of you. The Doctor's p__roud of you. I love you so much! Never gonna leave you! Still here still here always here never gonna leave you mine Mine MINE!'_

Forcing him in place, the guards held him there for a moment, before clamps came up to trap both of John's feet. Looking down, he was completely appalled. "What?" He struggled with them for a second, when the guards released his arms. "How the _hell_ am I supposed to run away now? You know that's supposed to be an option for this, you twonks! This isn't my world! Where the hell is the _real_ Gallifrey?"

There was nothing for it now, and all he could do was look up at the closed schism. He registered Rose screaming both in his head and in his ears, and all he could think of to say as the Schism clanked was, "Rose Marion Tyler, I love you and am _yours_ for eternity!"

His terror mixed with hers, and Rose could do nothing but sob loudly. Hearing his declaration, she choked them back and replied without hesitation. "Johnathon Donald Tyler, I love you and will _always_ be yours!"

Staring at the Untempered Schism, John watched it iris open and his world erupted in pain.

Unable to look any more, Romana turned away as his screams filled the chamber.

Pain. This was different. This was _**worse**_. They hadn't shielded the new Schism properly, and the only things that kept him sane was Rose's presence and the sight of red grass in front of him. Then the roar of the vortex overpowered all of his senses. The rawness of his throat told him that he failed in holding in his screams, but what he began to see overrode everything.

John's short life was exposed in every detail, going backwards and spiralling into the Doctor's memories. Then the future spanned out in front of him. _Oh, I have a future, that's nice. _He saw laughter, smiles, monsters of various sorts, lots of running, _lots of sex_, gag gifts, precious moments... Children. _"We are NOT naming our son after that daft horse!"_ he heard Rose say from somewhere beyond. What stunned him the most was seeing… a burnt orange sky?

Holding on to Rose's left arm, Marona looked over at Dorsal in horror. _'This is WRONG!'_ she thought to him as soon as John started screaming.

As for Rose; when she felt and heard John's pain and screaming, she came completely undone. Much like when Nimrod broke his arm, nothing registered to her except saving him. She couldn't help her own screams, since she felt his agony now.

With her twisting and screaming like she was, Dorsal looked at Marona. They nodded to each other and let her go. From their own bond to each other, they knew what they would do if the situation was reversed. And, as soon as they released her, they weren't surprised when she bolted for the small stair.

Running faster than she ever had before, Rose was up the dais before she realized it and barrelled into John's side in an attempt to bowl him out of the way. Unfortunately, the clamps on his feet prevented this. She heard him faintly telling her to run, but what came out clearly to her was _'Oh how I wanted to show you that wonderful pla__net!'_

A sob came out of her when she realized there was no moving him, and she wrapped her arms around his torso from the side. Terrified, the only thing she could do was keep her promise to him. Mentally shouting at Romana, she put everything she had into it. _'There is always a choice, __**and this is mine!**__'_ Lifting her head, she stared directly into the gap in the fabric of reality.

Whatever pain she had before dropped away as soon as she saw the raw vortex. Clarity hit her and descended around her in a state of absolute calm. She felt herself split as past, present, and future collided in her mind and meshed into the Eternal Now.

Rose was nineteen and staring into the heart of the TARDIS; waving her hand and turning the Daleks to dust. She was standing in their TARDIS, with a toddler hanging off of her leg; holding an infant in her arms and laughing at John hanging upside down underneath the console. Looking at John to her right in the present, she knew what needed to be done as she felt the raw power flood her once again. It was Now.

Looking up from the commotion, Romana's mouth hung open when she heard Rose in her mind. Then the Untempered Schism flooded the area in front of it with golden light that streamed towards the pair in front of it. "By all the Guardians of the Universe, _what have I done?_" she rasped.

Seeing the vortex, Narvin took an uncontrollable step forward. Something stopped him though, and he realized he couldn't move.

The gold washed over the two before it, and John was suddenly in many different places at the same time: standing next to Rose as she ripped open the console; holding her hand while the TARDIS raced back to the year 200,100; bearing witness to her destruction of the Daleks as well as bringing Jack back to life; standing before the leather clad Doctor as he gently rested her on the floor. And all at once, he _remembered_.

He was in the TARDIS, he was _really in the TARDIS_, looking out from the door as he stood before his ninth incarnation. Staring at each other, the Doctor said, _'Take care of her,'_ to which he replied, _'With my life, she will be safe.'_ An interminable second passed, knowledge and reasoning flying back and forth between them, and the Doctor nodded. John smiled, feeling more of that Doctor in him than he had before. The Doctor knew what that meant, and John realized that the vortex didn't make him regenerate: the Doctor did it himself. Watching him exhale the energy of the vortex, John saw his essence fly towards him at the same time. It was heady, and John felt strengthened by it.

The scenery changed, and he found himself floating in space. Out of the corner of his eye, John saw a lone Dalek: Dalek Caan. Reaching out with his hand, he flooded the being's consciousness with the reality of the Daleks; showing him the horror that his kind had visited upon the universe. The upper casing exploded with Caan's wail, and a single word came from his modulated voice: "MADNESS!" Nodding to him, John washed him with compassion, forgiveness and knowledge. Caan cried a single white tear. "IT SHALL BE DONE DOCTOR." Smiling with gratitude, John shoved him through the Time Lock.

Standing straighter, Rose slid from John's side to slip her hand in his. The song of the vortex rang true in her mind once more, and she saw _everything_. Looking down to their clasped hands, she saw the fire flow through their bond and fill John as well. His sharp inhale made her look him in the eye, and she saw the same golden glow emanating from him. Her Demigod now had His Goddess' power.

She felt him. He felt her. They felt causality resonating between them. There was no more pain, no more fear. They were one.

_**They were the Bad Wolf.**_

_Examining each other, they smiled at their trails of white tears. The Feminine waved her hand to free the Masculine from the floor, while he waved his to heal their broken bones. The snap braces they wore fell to the floor._

_Turning as one, they spoke in a tetrad of voices:__ hers mixed with the original TARDIS, his with both aspects of his former existence: The leather clad Doctor and Donna Noble. __**We are **__**the Bad Wolf. We create ourself. We are the Right and Left of the Lonely God, the Oncoming Storm. When time itself kept us **__**apart, we crossed the Void to reunite. We are stronger. We are closer. We Are Bound. We cannot be restrained. We are the harbinger of time. You sentence us to death. We bring life.**_

_They looked upon the two Time Lords below, and the Masculine calmed the Fe__minine – preventing their discorporation into dust. Seeing inside them both, they saw who they were and the reasons for their actions. Narvin's was born from guilt over his failure in the Time War. __**The lies you label your manacles of power are naught but phantom chains that you bi**__**nd yourself with. If you continue on this path, Coordinator Narvin, your guilt will consume you and destroy you utterly. That is the only torment you face. Release it.**_

_Gazing upon Romanadvoratrelundar, they saw a broken woman, nearly driven insane by Rassi__lon himself, yet still so strong, without a thought for herself. __**Do not let the horrors of the past control you so completely. Even if you are not conscious of it, your pain echoes in your actions. You will be unable to be strong for your people unless you**__** are strong for yourself. **__The right hand of the Masculine went up, mirroring the Feminine's left, and they touched the spark in Romana's mind and between her hearts. Seeing her glow with regenerative energy, they smiled. __**Be healed, near sister and always f**__**riend. Let it Go. **__A flick of a finger from each, and they ensured that this regeneration would not cost her one of her lives._

_Facing one another, they gazed lovingly into each other's eyes with soft smiles. Words were no longer necessary. A mismatching of personal timelines was corrected, as the Masculine's now stretched to match the Feminine's. A joined agreement of thoughts adjusted each other to be completely biologically compatible with the other._

_She nodded at his smile, and they placed the palms of their other hands together. Pulling them slowly apart, pinpricks of light appeared in their grasp as they turned their hands upwards. Blue in hers, Red in his, they shimmered and grew: the light of stars._

_The Feminine held the younger, as she was, bright and ready to awaken, eager to learn, to gather stories to itself. The Masculine held the elder star, a deep crimson that held countless generations of stories within, wisdom and knowledge it was ready to teach – to teach the younger, guiding it to the glory of its near-eternal life._

_With the knowledge that there was much more to do, the Masculine leaned to touch foreheads with the Feminine, and they both reached out to every particle in the shattered system, pulling them back into their rightful places – planets, moons and gas giants reformed._

_As one, the hands that held the stars shot out to the side. The light vanished from their palms to explode into existence in the centre of the system. As the light and warmth of them spread, various moons and one shining planet burst forth with life remembered, their promise fulfilled, thriving once more. Turning their attention to Gallifrey itself, fauna and flora burst forth upon its surface._

_Hands on each other's temples, the Masculine and Feminine aspect of the Bad Wolf poured the remain__ing energy between them into the suns, binding them into universe with Time Itself. __**Lost no more, the Hearts of Kasterbourus Restored. Shining World of the Seven Systems, Guard the Universe Once More.**_

_As the light faded from them, expended into the stars themselves, John and Rose realized that THIS was the true beginning of their forever. Smiling, they embraced each other with a kiss that lit the sky as brilliantly as the stars they had just relit._

That kiss was destined to be short, as the klaxon of the station interrupted them. Breaking it with a giggle, they ran hand in hand to the Great Console.

John slapped his hand onto the Master Internal Communications control and announced something profound, rather loudly. "Attention all personnel! Executive Directive Override: Bad Wolf One is now in effect! Landing procedures have been initiated! Coordinates: Ten Zero Eleven Zero Zero, by Zero Two, Plains of Mount Cadon, former site of the Prydonian Academy, **GALLIFREY!** . . . **HAH!**"


	6. Astonishment

**FROM THE ASHES**_  
__Chapter Six_

* * *

_JW: This part has been difficult, since the Doctor, Jack and crew weren't part of this at all. However, that just didn't sit well with me. For one thing, __Jack was alluded to in the previous. For another, why the hell WOULDN'T the Doctor go look?_

_Also: Listening to Muse - Knights of Cydonia while I write this._

* * *

_RG: You really like Muse, don't you? :p_

* * *

_JW: … yes. Don't look at me like that._

* * *

Standing in the middle of the Hub, Jack sipped his coffee while going over that damned report that Dr. Harper wrote about Phea. After he finished reading it, he set it with a temporal lockout. "I should be mad at you, but this has to happen to keep the timeline straight."

"I'm only following procedures, Captain," Owen complained.

Gwen and Martha sat together at Gwen's station. Even though their patient had returned to the future, Martha wasn't about to leave. What Rose and John told them had the pair of them watching out for their friend, like hawks.

Jack was heading to his office in a bit of a snit, when he felt thunder in his mind. He stiffened with a hissing inhale, and lost his grip on his coffee. The mug shattered on the floor as he felt the universe convulse. Hands shooting to his head, Jack shrieked from the pain.

Up like a shot, Gwen and Martha caught him as he buckled to the floor. "Jack?" Gwen asked.

Martha held him from the other side. "Talk to me. What's happening?"

Seeing him look up from the floor in wide eyed terror, Gwen and Martha were shocked to see Jack's eyes glowing a radiant gold. "Gallifrey," his pained voice rasped out.

In his mind, Jack saw a massive room that was beset with a maelstrom of the wind and fire from time itself. He could see John and Rose glowing brightly in the centre of the room. "Oh… my… _God_," he rasped.

* * *

Across the universe, the Doctor was alone in the TARDIS. Having set up Amy and Rory in their new home, he was a mix of emotions. While he was happy for them, he missed them more than he would admit. Pausing for breath, he was sitting in one of the console seats with his chin in his palm… thinking. Listening to his ship sing a beautiful tune, he wondered about how it sounded incomplete for some reason.

Still, there was quite a while before he had to deal with the Silence, if he had anything to say about it. Fixed points were one thing, deciding when to attend one? Well, that was something completely different altogether now wasn't it? And, he wasn't done yet by any stretch of the imagination. Their kidnapping of baby Melody had him in a locked up sense of frustrated anger.

Didn't help that she grew up to become River. No, that didn't help one damned bit. His thoughts veered back to the Teselecta; Justice Department Vehicle Number Six Zero One… eight… _That_ idea had merit.

The ship pitched suddenly, and the Doctor stood bolt upright as a thunderclap of a time line ripped through his senses. "That's… That's im_possible,_" he said in a hush. Stunned and wide-eyed for a moment, he shook himself and ran around the console, flipping all sorts of controls.

"What the hell has that woman done now?" he grumbled as he pulled his green overcoat on.

* * *

Still light headed from her second round with the vortex, Rose was giggling to herself while John made his smug announcement. Shaking her head, her mind ran through all the different times that he was a Drama Queen.

His head snapped to hers with a bit of shock. "_Queen_? Hardly. Drama King? _Maybe_. I might resemble that… a bit," he said with a smirk, before pulling her into a hug.

Free to move again, Narvin looked to his left and saw Romana glowing in the throes of regeneration. "No," he rasped. "They _kill__ed_ her!"

"Oh shut up," Romana muttered. "I'm fine. Just give me a moment." A multitude of faces and body types went through her mind, before she settled on one she liked. The light left her, and she shook her head rapidly.

Taller now, she was talking rapidly while taking stock and examining herself. "All right, check list. _Oooooh_! New voice! I think I rather like that. All _smoky… _isn't it?" Grinning, she held her hands out in front of her. "Good. Ten fingers," she said as she wiggled them about. Touching her chest briefly, she smiled. "Still a girl. Ooh, bouncy!"

Running her hands through her hair, an eyebrow arched. "Wavy? That's unexpected." She pulled a lock of it in front of her face. "Damn. Was going for blond, not brown," she complained. Feeling around her face, she rattled off what she found. "Eyes, two. Nose, cute? Chin, well it's not pointy or anything, _unlike some people_. Ears? Hmm I like these. Dainty. Wish I had a mirror. Wanted green eyes for once."

Turning around abruptly to face John and Rose, she stepped in front of Rose and leaned down with a wild look on her face. "Green? Eyes, I mean," she pointed at them. "Not my hair. Although that _would_ be a fright, now wouldn't it?" She giggled at herself over that.

An incredulous grin on her face, Rose remembered a similar conversation as she peered closer to look into her eyes. "They _look_ green. Somewhere between emerald and avocado?"

Leaning back, Romana was thoroughly pleased and clapped her hands together. "Excellent!"

While all this was happening, one of the two technicians got the Coordinator's attention. "Sir?"

Turning around, Narvin had a hateful expression on his face. "What!" he barked. Seeing the man pointing at the large observation screen, he looked up and had his mouth fall open. "Is that real?" he whispered.

The other technician was going over the controls rapidly. "One hundred percent, sir. The entire _system_!"

Leaning down over his shoulder, Narvin pressed for more information. "Is there life?" he asked almost under his breath.

"I'm reading all sorts of life on the planet. Animal, plant…" he paused and looked confused. "I thought those were extinct?"

"Never mind that," Narvin said petulantly. "What of the cities? The people?"

Looking over from his station, the other technician shook his head. "There are none. The planet is pristine."

"Madam President?" someone asked from behind them. Turning, Romana, John and Rose saw a Time Lady. "There was an order to land using an archaic code, but it didn't come from you. Land where?" she asked in complete confusion.

Scoffing, Romana looked at her. "Where do you _think_, you overworked twit? Look at the monitor. _Hell_, look out the window! Now enough of the gloom and doom. We're going home! Off you go, now." She rolled her eyes at the salute, and shook her head at the retreating pilot, chuckling.

The others in the room had gathered around the great console, staring at the screen and completely overjoyed. Someone started to chuckle, and the place was soon swimming with laughter.

Turning to look at them, Narvin was nearly at wits' end. "All better now, is it?"

John looked to the ceiling with a groan. _Ah yes, the prat._ "Oh, yes. It is. I really don't know why you always bring the colour out of everything, but it really is tiresome. You are the epitome of sour. And quite frankly, I don't care anymore. Weren't you the one not too long ago that was going on about… quite venomously, accusingly, and hateful I might add… with the 'Least then, we had a planet' bollocks?"

Sweeping his arm towards the screen, John had a rant screaming to get out. "Well have a look! It's brimming with life, resources, air, and actual _food_ instead of pellets, wafers, or whatever else you think to put in your gob. Are you completely incapable of being happy? All that is gold does not glitter. Not all those who wander are lost. The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots… No wait. Sorry, that's the _Lord of the Rings_."

Ignoring Rose's groan over that, he continued on. "Look at them! All of them!" he spun in a circle with both arms out. "They are a riot of _joy_ over this! You seem to be the only person here that hates it!" Stepping close to the man, he invaded his personal space and was nose to nose with him. "What is the _matter_ with you? Be happy for the love of creation! It won't kill you, I promise."

Narvin wasn't swayed. "Right! Of course! I should be _ecstatic_ that you've given us a planet devoid of everything that made it _remotely_ important! I didn't spend my existence trying to protect a mere celestial body, you half-wit! I protected its people!"

Blinking at that, John was stunned at how myopic he was being. "But don't you see? That's the point: the people _are _the most important, the ones on this station _have _been protected, and now you have Gallifrey back to make a new start. If Gallifrey had been brought back as it was, it would have been like restarting the Time War. You have hope now for a brighter future, and if you are unable to see that, then I'm not exactly sure what it is you're doing here," he said with a heavy sigh. "All that brilliance... soured and doused in vinegar and vitriol."

Rose, however, was nowhere near as diplomatic as her husband in her response to Narvin's pouty cynicism. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you, you _git_?" she all but shrieked at the obstinate man, somewhat quieting the area around them. "You've just seen two people – two near-humans, humans that you thought weren't worth the shit on the bottom of your shoe – take the power of the Vortex from your bloody _botched_ Schism and recreate your entire system!

"And you bet your arse there's life there – maybe not the great sophisticated domed cities of old, but hundreds of _thousands_ of creatures are alive again! Listen to them! The rest of your people are over the _moon_ at their chance to get off this bleedin' station. But _you_, you great wanker, you're just angry 'cause you can't control anythin' that's goin' on right now! How far up your arse _is_ your head?"

Romana put her hand on Rose's shoulder to halt her verbal assault, and moved to stand in front of Narvin. "You and I are going to have a very serious conversation rather soon, Coordinator," she said quietly.

Seeing his eyes widen from the look she gave him, she nodded slowly. "Oh, yes. While you have been a great asset and protector of our people, our shared history doesn't excuse your behaviour or actions on this day. I am the President, and your disrespect of my position will not go unanswered. This is a new day for us all, and things _will_ change whether you like it or not." Part of her actually felt sorry for the man. "Now, you need to attend your actual duties. To put it bluntly: Get out of my sight."

Nostrils flaring, Narvin turned and stomped off.

Taking a calming breath, Romana turned and surprised John and Rose by hugging them close. "There are no words to express enough gratitude for what you've done for us all. I am so _sorry_ for what I've done to you both. I really hate this position at times." Taking the time to kiss each of their foreheads, she stepped back.

Motioning to one of the technicians to activate the internal communications, Romana spoke to the entire station. "My friends, as President, it is my honour to direct all of you to bear witness. Undoubtedly, you have felt what has occurred. If you would turn your gaze to the starboard side of the station, I will reassure you that this is no mirage. Through the grace of time and two very important people," she placed her fingertips on John and Rose's cheeks briefly with a smile, "the system that gave birth to us all is once again among the stars. It is up to us to rebuild. Rebuild our culture, our people, and take our rightful place as protectors of the universe. Rejoice. We are going _home_."

John and Rose were overwhelmed by the several thousand minds of the station cheering, and they ended up leaning on each other. "Oh my God," Rose murmured, wiping her face. John just held his head back and revelled in the emotions of everyone on the station with a large contented smile. That wasn't to say that his own face was dry though.

"To that end," Romana continued, "we are on course to land in the Plains of Mount Cadon. Please consider the station at the Blue level of alertness, and tend to the landing procedures. I don't know about anyone else, but I think this calls for a celebration. Once we are aground, please seal your stations and join us outside." Smiling wide, she turned off the comm herself.

While everyone around them were shouting and hugging each other, John pulled Romana close so he could talk in her ear over the din. "Could we go back to your office? I believe Rose wants to put something on. While I rather enjoy her in her dressing gown, she's become understandably self-conscious." Hearing that, Rose nodded her head rapidly.

Speaking of self-conscious, John shoulder bumped Romana. "Sorry 'bout the unexpected, there. We just wanted to make you feel better. Still, not a bad look on you. I think if you put your mind on it, you could probably make even my brother blush."

Turning to Rose, his cheek got worse. "Heh. You don't know it, but this lovely lady was the only one that could constantly trip brother dearest up. Personally, that _plus_ the new her and he'll probably be backpedalling worse than when Jack was all up in his face. Added to the squick factor, and I bet he'll flubble. _Ooooh_, I like that. Flubble: A flummoxed fumbling of floored flim flam," he grinned and tried not to snicker at the alliteration.

John's abuse of the English language had Rose's eyes skyward again, and she shot a baleful look at Romana. '_I swear, I think he's worse than the Doctor sometimes,'_ she thought to her.

Smirking and stifling a giggle, Romana agreed completely, _'He certainly appears to be, sometimes.'_

Still, with all the compliments to Romana, Rose was glaring at John from under her brow while sucking on her teeth. An apology she could understand, as she had done so herself, but it was generally a good idea - _maybe even a universal rule_ - that men's assessments of women's appearances should be limited to 'my, don't you look gorgeous, darling?'

All the same, John was complimenting her to the point where it was making her jealous. "Oi!" she protested. "I could tongue-tie him up pretty well myself! And I'm not sure you can compare his potential reaction to her with his reaction to Jack. Totally different situation and experience, that."

"Oh Rose, you don't need to be…" John started.

Rose sighed and looked at him. "Still, I would like to see the look on his face, considering all that's happened." The corner of her mouth twitched in a grin as she thought of a way to make _him_ trip up. "Joooohn," she began to sing-song in a pouting voice. "My chocolate milkshake died. Can I have another one?"

John blinked. "Stop that," he said quietly, suddenly afraid for some reason. _Oh, no. The __Look__. Ohhhh hell._

She was busy with the best puppy eyes she could possibly manage at him, biting her lip for good measure and resting her head on his shoulder to be even cuter about it. He could make fun of the Doctor all he liked, but Rose was living proof that he was just as bad. The miffed, almost pained look on his face was so priceless that she desperately wished she had her camera.

"No seriously, stop that." She wasn't swayed from his pleas though, and he glanced at Romana briefly. "Pardon me a moment," he mumbled before dipping Rose backwards. He shushed that adorably sexy look and noise with his mouth on hers. _'Do you really want to do this here? Now?_' he asked while checking to see if Rose's tonsils were still in place. He was pleased when her fists got done up in his jacket over the whole thing.

Blatantly ignoring everyone else in the room, John made it plain that Rose understood where his loyalties were. _'My name is John __Tyler__, understand?'_ Pulling back, he held her close. "Sorry about that. All better?"

Blushing so hard that her face could fry eggs, Rose was completely embarrassed. "We're not exactly _alone_, John," she mumbled, shooting Romana a wincing, apologetic look. Still, his thoughts filled her with happiness, pride, and made her extremely smug over the whole situation. _'Face it,'_ she told him with a smirk. _'I own you.'_

Completely amused by their actions, Romana tried to save their modesty. "Now where were we? Ah yes, clothes and a drink. Right?"

John was a bit flushed himself over what Rose said in his head. "Yes, yes! Tea and a wardrobe change for you, clothes and a sha…" He stammered over his near slip up. "I-I-I mean _shake_ for Rose. Yes, shake. Chocolate. With chips to dip in, and maybe some Darjeeling after?

"Can we go to your office now?" he pleaded. "That way, I can get into her… uh, I mean get _her_ into something a bit more covering. Yes, that's it. Uhm… _this_ way, right?"

John's rather spectacular floundering only served to prove Rose's point; he even started walking in the wrong direction. Chuckling, she steered him to the correct direction.

"Ah yes. How silly of me," he mumbled. Hearing Romana laughing behind them had him rubbing the back of his neck quite madly.

* * *

After they made their way through the corridors and into her office, Romana got to babbling. Still manic over everything, including the higher than normal energy levels of the aftermath of her regeneration, she couldn't stop herself. "I can see it so plainly now. Everything I did was reactionary out of _fear_. You have no _idea_ how remorseful I feel over putting the two of you through all of that. And after what you did for us all, I am simply _mortified_ over my actions!" Her watery eyes spilled over at that point.

"Stop," John said, taking her by the arm. "Breathe. That's it."

Rose rubbed Romana's other shoulder. "It's all right. I can see where you were coming from now. I can't imagine the amount of pain you went through, even though I saw all of it. You're as much a victim of circumstances as we were."

Pausing for a moment, her lips quirked in a wry but gentle smile. "'If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.' Henry Wadsworth Longfellow." Realizing what she'd said, Rose frowned. "I mean, you're not our enemy, and you weren't then, it was just…oh, you know what I mean," she gave up. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw John gaping at her. _'What?' _she thought to him. _'I wasn't _totally _worthless at school.'_ His reply came in the form of beaming pride and a desperate desire to snog her.

Understanding what Rose was trying to say, Romana tried to still her mind with her face in her hands. Wiping them down and away from her face, she couldn't stop crying. "All the same… Oh, I'm so sorry!"

Moving as one, John and Rose held her from both sides while she broke down. After she was down to hiccups, she got to mumbling. "Oh, _why_ aren't you the Doctor? I could so…" Romana halted that thought abruptly.

"He _is_ the Doctor," Rose said. "But this one's mine. Get your own," she teased.

A belt of laughter broke out of Romana, and she let go of John to hug Rose. "Oh, _you_. You are simply stellar. Now, off you go. I need a change of attire as well. I seem to have outgrown this. Thankfully, it's loose enough to not appear completely out of place. Though, it is a bit tattered now."

Chuckling, John went to the TARDIS and placed his hand on the side. After reeling from her outright joy over the pair of them being safe, her shell changed to an English telephone booth with frosted glass. "Uhm. Was going for a Police Box, there."

_I'm _not_ my matron, you _git_. Don't you _EVER_ scare me like that again, Pa'na!_

John nodded, abashed. "Right, sorry." Blinking, he realized something. "Either your voice got stronger, or I can hear you better, _Sassy_."

Looking over at him, Romana was at a loss and completely stunned. "You can communicate directly with your ship?"

"Of course," Rose said, confused. "Why, is that not normal or somethin'?" Her confusion got worse when she felt John cringe over that.

Gasping, Romana put both of her hands over her mouth. "Oh my. You… You're a _Tender_!" Crossing the room in a dash, she caught John up in a huge hug, and even lifted him off the floor a bit. "Oh you beautiful _thing_!" Setting him down, she was manic. "None of them… We couldn't…" she stuttered. "_None_ of them made it to the ship in time!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," John said quietly. _'Lookout dear, I think we're about to be drafted or __something,'_ he thought to his wife. "Uhm, can this wait till we've freshened up?"

"Swear to me you won't leave!" Romana half shouted, pointing at him. "Not until after the celebrations and we've had a chance to talk."

"Unequivocally," he said quickly. "Not about to leave before I've shown Rose my homeworld. Just… Let us get cleaned up and dressed for the occasion, all right?"

Blinking, Romana nodded. "Oh! Yes. Of course!" She backed up to give way for Rose.

Opening the door with a click of his fingers, John ushered Rose inside and locked it up again.

Romana just stood there for a moment, wondering how in creation he just did that.

"Is it just me, or does she seem extraordinarily happy?" Rose said as they walked towards their bedroom. "What's a tender anyway?"

"TARDIS Tenders were the people who literally _tended_ the TARDIS fields, coaxing the coral to grow and have them stay put while they did so," John explained with a bit of apprehension. "And none of them survived."

"Oh," Rose blinked. "Right."

"Yeah," John said. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Still though," Rose hugged him after they were in their room. "Gallifrey?"

"I KNOW!" John shouted, grinning and bouncing like a maniac.


End file.
